


Clone me now

by Ficker



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Multi, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Sex, Violence, dean is a whore, noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:56:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ficker/pseuds/Ficker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean Venture saw his brother die it set him onto a new and different path. A path filled with confusion, anger, money, loneliness and loss. But also a path that gave him great strength and turned him into a great man. Too bad he had to become a whore before he could become a king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I hate being a clone.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer. I own diddly squat but the bloody plot! Some body needs to murder that bunny...

There are things in life to be proud, many many things. Being a Doctor for instance, or helping the homeless. Heck, picking up a dropped boom for someone else was something to be proud of. 

Dean Venture remembered when he made people proud, when he made himself proud and when he did things worth doing at every opportunity... Now was not one of those times. 

No. Right now he was lying on his back with his legs wrapped around the waist of a jackass, letting said jackasses sweat drip all over him for $250... To say the least of the liquids that were currently touching him. 

"Hey, kiddo. Look at me. I am not giving you the money to imitate a pillow." The cool and very mocking voice of The Phantom Limb. 'God dammit his voice is annoying and that gosh darn it smirk... Why can't he shut the fuck up?' Dean thought, casting his eyes at the annoyance currently inside of him. This seemed to please the Phantom and after a few more minutes, boom, bang, bow... It was over and done with. The Phantom placed the money on the table as Dean rose and used the tissues to wipe himself off, stepping into his tight pleather pants and grabbing the cash. 

"Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Venture" the Phantom said from his bed, calmly sitting under the covers. "I trust our arrangement stands?" Dean rolled his eyes and pulled on the worn old Cotton t-shirt he had worn there, redoing his belt as he spoke. "Yeah yeah. For the hundredth time, I won't tell anyone you fucked a boy if you don't tell my dad, brother or Brock I exist..." He grabbed his tagged old brown leather boots and pulled them on. "Or my self for that matter" he said, speaking of the clone his numb skull of a father had replaced him with after he vanished. "Agreed" The Phantom said, waving Dean off, seemingly bored now. As Dean walked out he caught his reflection in the vanity. 

'Golly, I look worse than usual' he thought, seeing how he looked. His red roots were starting to show under his black and purple hair dye, an idea he got from Tris, but that was not the worst of it. Dean had lost more weight making what was once a thin form near anorexic and he had deep, purple bags under his eyes from his lack of sleep. Not to mention the strange lack lustre look of his skin "If you need me, you know my number" were his parting words as he grabbed the brown pleather jacket, a thrift store find, and showed himself out. 

In the distance he could see a red car that reminded him of Brock. "I got to beat feet and skedaddle already" he muttered to himself. He still used that outdated lingo when speaking to himself, mostly because it reminded him of Hank and he missed Hank. After all, Hank was the reason he was even in this situation. 

It had all started three years before when he and Hank had been on one of their crazy adventures with their father. It had been a simple enough mission, (if you wanted to call it that) they were just looking over some old caves, looking for something their granddad had left there that their father wanted to sell. But it had all gone wrong in a flash and there was a rock-slide. Hank had been crushed, rendered little more than a pile of ground meat and bone. Understandably Dean had panicked and ended up hitting his head and passing out. When he had woken up Hank had been in the bed next to him and Brock and their dad had acted like nothing had happened. But, Dean knew that the Hank he spoke with and played with was not his Hank, not the brother he had grown to love and the pain and guilt had started to fester. After only three weeks he had been unable to take it and Dean had run away, dropping his clothes off in a dumper and putting in a pair of kids shorts he had taken off of some poor strangers clothes line, along with his current Shirt. From there, like a fool, the misguided and depressed teen had gone to Dr. Impossible for help. The same Dr who's wife had recently left him. The same Dr who was really not a good person and from there it had all went downhill. 

The night Dean showed up it had rained and he had been soaked, causing the white shirt to stick to his skin and, along with the very small shorts, there was nothing left to the imagination. Dr. Impossible for his part had been drinking. He had let Dean stay with him, but only for a price. A price that Dean did not understand until it was already too late and his life was forever ruined. By the time Dean got out from under Dr. Impossible clutches his clone had already taken his place and was playing with Hank out front. Dean knew he would never be able to hurt his brother by exposing the horrible secret. He had left, deciding to never go back. This had led to a need to make money. Unfortunately after several failed attempts Dean had only found one way for a teenage boy with no home, not many stills to speak of and with no parental signature was what Dr. Impossible had put him through. But, it did pay well and it seemed an odd amount of villains wanted to pay him...


	2. I hate the stars

Dean was walking along, looking up at the sky as he did so. When he was younger he had always liked the stars, pointing out constellations to Hank and hearing him say stupid stuff in reply. It had been nice... Now he would never get that again. It made him hate the stars as his boots crunched on the gravel created by the deteriorated highway. It was not the safest way through town, but it was the fastest. As he walked Dean took a minute to remember how he had gotten here... 

********Roughly Four Years Prior********

The night was dark when the distraught 14-16-year-old-ish clone made it to the steps of the recently remade Impossible Industries. Prof Impossible had still not managed to built up his empire to its prior standing and was as a result, seriously short staffed. It was for this reason that it Richard Impossible himself that answered the door. 

"Ah. Dean..." It appeared that the Prof was about to make a scathing remark when he saw the state Dean was in and the late hour of the night. "Come in" he said, moving to let Dean in. He then placed a comforting hand upon the boys shoulder. Dean didn't know it at the time but the man used his long neck to check out the teens ass. "You look solum. Tell me all about it". Dean looked up at the man and gave a goofy smile, feeling comforted. "Golly-Gosh. It's a long story Mr. Impossible." He said. The Prof led him to a sitting room way at the top of the tower. "Dean, no story is too long between friends. I have the time. Tell me" he said, sitting down and crossing his legs and sitting back in the sofa. 

Dean went into his long story, starting with when he found out about being a clone, going over Hanks death and finishing up with how he had run away, unable to stand being there any longer. "So Prof Impossible... Can I stay with you for a while? I'll do chores and everything! I won't be in the way" Dean proclaimed. That had been the edge of his downfall. The edge of the cliff if you will. It was the next question that sealed his fate. "Well, there is not much to be done..." Richard started, his smile vanishing into a fake contemplative look. Deans face fell and he made to stand up. "I understand sir-" Dean started. "Unless you want to take over Pumpkins old tasks...?" Deans eyes lit up. "Really Prof? Cool! I can do that! Sure!" Dean said, reaching out to shake the elders hand. "I am glad we could come to an arrangement" The Prof said. 

********* Present Day**********  
Dean suddenly kicked a stone, letting out a loud half scream, pissed to this day at his stupidity. "FUCKING DAMMIT!" He cursed allowed, before tripping as he kicked yet another rock and falling onto his ass. "... Owe..." He said, getting up and rubbing his ass. "... Well, these pants are ruined..." He muttered, grimacing as bodily fluid was was leaking and wiped his hand upon his thigh. Looking up at the sky again he got dragged back into his memories. 

********Sooner, Roughly 4 Years Ago********

Dean looked up at the very drunk man on top of him. "BAD TOUCH! BAD TOUCH!!" He kicked out, trying to get away from the gripping hand that had forced his shirt up. "I'M NOT A GIRL!" He shouted, his breathing fast and confused as the Prof kissed his neck. "You promised to take Pumpkins jobs. Gave me your word" the slurred words came over. Dean shook his head but as a ling, elastic hand reached into his pants Dean fainted, his eyes rolling back in shock. 

****** A few hours Sooner, 4 years ago******

Dean opened his eyes and moved a little, only to feel pain shoot through his body, the source felt like his lower spine at first and then his opening, it caused him to flip off the covers and looks down. It was the colour red that hit him first. Blood, he'd seen it enough thanks to Brock, then the odd fluid stain and the dried crust. "Ewwie..." He said, getting up and pushing himself away from the bed before looking around and then a panicked thought hit him. "Am I going to have a baby? I don't want to be a mummy!" His hands went into his hair and made fists, but Dean still did not really understand what had happened. He ran to the door and attempted to open it, only to find it locked. He then kicked it, causing something to rip. "AHHHH!!" He fell back in pain, shaking his head. 

After a few more hours, maybe even a day, Prof Impossible entered the room. "Ah Dean. I brought you your new uniform" he said. "What did YOU DO TO ME YOU.. YOU WEIRDO?!" Dean asked, having used the sheet like a Toga. Richard froze and looked at him. "Your father neglected to tell you about the birds and the bees?" Dean sat down and winched. "What does birds and bees have to do with this?... Why does my Wow-hole hurt...?" The Prof still stood there in shock, he then rubbed his temples and sat in the bed. "Sit down. I'll explain this slowly" he said...

The conversation ended with a horrified Dean and a pounding headache for one Richard Impossible... 4 hours later. "And no. Boys can't get pregnant... But you're missing the point here Dean. You agreed to this. It is our arrangement". Dean looked up. Thanks to his past he was pretty used to odd situations. "Are you s-" "YES I'M SURE!" 

"... Wait. Golly... This means you're gonna do it again?!" The Prof nodded. "Yes. And you have to get my coffee" 

********Present Day********  
Dean looked out onto the Ghetto side of town, seeing the lights and listening to the car horns and shouting. The teen took a deep breath and kicked at the gravel again before he walked into an alleyway. He was almost home and best thing yet, he could no longer see the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this already written so I thought it best to post it. You are welcome... If anyone reads this that is. Small fandom.


	3. A Killing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes one chooses to place their fate in another's hand and they make off with a Killing. Lol.

Dean closed his eyes for a minute as he leaned back against the outer wall of his apartment building. He wished it would rain and wash over him. Wash away his shame and his sadness. 

The boy no the man took a hold of the dumpster lid and used it to body him. He then managed to grab the pull down fire escape ladder. He hated the front. It always made him feel judged. So he claimed in the dark. "It really needs to rain" he mutters. 

The next morning he woke up, crust in his eyes and a pounding headache. He was also crusty and stank. "Shoot. I need to shower" he muttered. "Han-" he stopped himself and cursed. It was a bad habit. He moved and removed his jacket and shirt but left the pants on. He needed to wet them first. 

Stepping into the cold shower spray he thought about shopping. "I need to get tomatoes. Pop. Maybe some sausage and bread..." He said to himself. He poured his cheap shampoo. It was "roaring waters" scent. He'd not bothered with the conditioner. 

"There was something I had to do. By golly what was it?" He muttered as he removed those soaked pants and washed more, using the shampoo as soap. "What was it..." He started to hum before he looked over and saw a red poster on the toilet. "FUCK!" He said before he slipped and fell. Too much shampoo. "THE VILLAIN APPRENTICE CONVENTION!" He rinsed and ran out, skidding on the old shitty plastic tile. 

He caught a look at his hair and cursed as he tried to pull on a new shirt, black with a skull, and some red skinny jeans. He then grabbed a towel and went to town on his hair before pulling on boots and grabbing his hair dye. He squeezed it onto his hands and put it in his hair. "Fuck it" he said. He would wash it later. He then did his eyeliner, getting dye where it didn't go. He cursed and wiped his face and hands before he looked in the mirror. 

"Fuck. FUCK!" He shook his head and groaned before he looked in the mirror and shrugged before running out, skidding down a few steps. He then hit the ground from too great a height. "OWW!" He grabbed his leg and hopped on one leg as he kept going. Soon he was running. He was late. 

**********

It was a miracle that he arrived before his name was called. It had taken a $50 taxi ride and a hitched ride. "Deep Black...?" The interviewer asked. "P-PRESENT!" Dean yelled. The name had been a last minute choice. He'd been in black. The interviewer started. "Yes... Well, stand on the podium " he said. 

Dean stood there as they asked him question after question. He listed skills he'd acquired in his youth. He'd made a few raunchy jokes and gotten a few glares. "Yes. Well... Please wait in the lobby. We will call you if we find a match..." Dean was told. 

Dean left, feeling like he blew it. 

All but 4 people were left in the room when Dean was called. "Deep Black. Please enter". Dean was sweating. But he entered. 

Inside a bright light flashed on him. "Congratulations. You have been assigned to Dr. Henry Killinger." Dean stared. "What?" He asked. The announcer sighed. "Please exit to the left". Dean left in a haze. He'd been assigned. 

He'd been ASSIGNED! YES. YES. YE-... Dr. Henry Killinger...? "Why does that sound familiar...?" He muttered as he walked up to his new boss. The man was squat and wore a mask. 

"Hello Dr. Henry Killinger..." The doctor raised a hand. "Hush. Hush. Killinger is fine. Now, come" he was told, the doctors hand moved to his waist and his hand was on his ass. "Oh... Ok Killinger..." He said, forcing a smile. This man was not attractive and he was pretty sure he was gonna be screwed. Literally. "Let me take you to my humble abode" The Doctor said, before he started to rise in the air like Mary Poppins. "S-S-SHIT!!" Dean clutched for dear life. 

This might have been a bad idea. Then again, Dean made a lot of them.

**Author's Note:**

> The Bunny refuses to die... I hope you like it!


End file.
